


First: Contact

by DedicatedHealer



Series: Dedicated-Healer's Gency Week Collection [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Finding Peace, Gency Week, Pre-Recall, Sad Angela, first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9166558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DedicatedHealer/pseuds/DedicatedHealer
Summary: For the first day of Gency Week; after the disbandment of Overwatch Angela begins to feel down on herself over her mistakes in the past, and connections she failed to make. All it takes is a sign to let her know that maybe things will end up okay





	

Before the fall of Overwatch, Genji didn’t associate himself with any member of Overwatch or its Blackwatch counterpart for any more than mission briefings. He ghosted in and out of various watchpoints to carry out his missions as ordered and nothing more. He acted as a service machine, input direction and he would exert only the energy needed to complete a task. He quickly became a rumor mill for the rest of the organization’s members, whom murmured about his enigmatic background, and even more mysterious personality. He worked closely with Blackwatch members, but even they knew next to nothing about him, only citing that beneath the chrome mask he would chant a mantra to himself in Japanese just prior to missions. 

Angela tried mightily to reach out to him throughout his time with Overwatch, inviting him to the mess hall for dinners, or outings into town to pick up supplies, all to no avail. He hardly came to his scheduled check-ups with her to be sure his bionic body still functioned normally. Whenever he did grace her with his presence at his appointments, he would only express brief gratitude for her granting him new life before he’d fall into silence for the rest of their meeting. The most she could do that held potential results was leaving small meals and green tea outside of his room when they were on base together, in hopes he still got any sustenance at all. The tray and dishware were always on the drying rack the next morning when Angela would head to the mess hall for her morning coffee. She supposed it was the best she could do for the distant man.

However, when the fall came, it was no shock that Genji disappeared before any other member, completely off grid with no word to anyone. 

Members all went their separate ways of course, but most held some contact with one another. Angela couldn’t call herself much better than Genji though, she threw herself into work near the Arabian Sea, working in the field med-bay day in and day out, never reaching out to any colleague or friend. To her credit, no one attempted to reach out to her either. She felt lonely at times, but working like this reminded her of her parents, though they worked for others, and even if she wouldn’t admit it, Angela worked to keep her mind busy. She’d wake early and work late, nearly collapsing from exhaustion each night when she fell to her cot. Bags clung under her dulled eyes, and her body slightly more fragile than it had been when she worked to keep in more prime condition during the Overwatch days. The Valkyrie suit and Caduceus staff were tucked away in a case under her cot, unused for far too long; Mercy was a part of her past, she had returned to her beginnings as Dr. Angela Ziegler. She worked so hard every day to push back the thoughts of what morally grey work she had done in Overwatch, the questionable procedures, her unwavering trust of Morrison to never lead her work astray… 

The opportunity a young Dr. Ziegler had with Overwatch was a double-edged sword, the resources to perform any and all research she desired, but the obligation to follow her superiors’ rule, even when their moral views clashed violently behind closed doors and away from her patients. The connections she made were dear to her, but the bitter compromises she had to make when it came to her medicinal skills hollowed her spirit. Perhaps shutting down Overwatch was the best course of action, though the Valkyrie suit was of great benefit to humanity, the person inside of it was not one Angela wished to remember. 

With a shake of her head Angela rose from her cot, tucked away from the middle eastern sun inside a ramshackle building. She brushed her hair back into a high pony tail, noting that she’d have to cut it soon, as it was starting to grow a bit too long for her liking. The moment she had a mug of grainy instant coffee in her hands she moved to the medical tent, checking in on still sleeping patients to be sure nothing critical had happened while she slept. Assured they were sound, Angela finished her coffee, leaving only the grounds at the bottom of the mug before making the trek just outside camp to a well where she could procure more water for the camp. 

As she reached the well Angela noted how the sun was just barely cresting the horizon at the East, creating an ethereal scene of the warm oranges and yellows bleeding against the rocky ground. Tearing her gaze away she instead found her focus fixated on a small tawny feather at the lip of the well. Gingerly as she could, Angela picked up the sparrow feather, feeling her lips quirk slightly at its implications. 

What felt like ages of useless attempts perhaps did reach him. 

Angela loosed a sigh, one that finally relieved some of the weight of the guilt that weighed so heavily on her soul. Because after all the connections she had made before the fall, he was the first to reach out to her, to let her know he was okay, to make her feel like she might be okay after all she had done.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr (dedicated-healer) for a little bonus content at the end ;) 
> 
> I know it's a bit sad, but I don't see their lives as completely happy, so I think they help each other find peace in the world.


End file.
